Ulp. Boba swallowed. A group of swaggering space pirates went by him, laughing. Boba stared back at them, trying to look unimpressed.
“Young sir!” Nuri’s voice carried from a few meters away. “This way!”
Boba hurried to join him. Past shops and markets, through abandoned structures that looked like ancient starships, under a vast broken glass dome. They passed food vendors, too. Some of what they were selling looked disgusting - things with claws and tentacles and too many eyes. But some of the food looked and smelled delicious. It made Boba’s mouth water. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had eaten. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been today.
At first he tried to keep track of the way they were going. But after a while, Boba gave up trying to keep track. Their path wound in and out, back and forth. Once he was certain they were backtracking. He wondered if for some reason Nuri was trying to fool him. Keep him from being able to find his way back on his own.
And no matter where they went, there were crowds. Despite the rule against nonnatives being armed, most of those he saw carried weapons of one sort or another. Vibroblades, stun batons, blasters, wrist rockets. Boba was pretty sure most of them weren’t citizens of Aargau.
And he was pretty sure he would not want to bump into any of them, alone and unarmed.
“Where do all these people come from?” Boba asked.
Nuri led him down the street, toward an alley. “They come from all over the galaxy,” he said in his high, singsong voice. “They are drawn by the fortunes to be made on Aargau, trading currency. And here in the Undercity, anything goes. Betrayal. Murder. The black market is busy here. Smugglers trade and sell gold, credits, data, droids, jewels, weapons, ships. But the single most valuable thing is information.”
“Information?” Boba frowned. “That doesn’t seem very interesting.” Not compared to weapons, or ships, he thought.
“Trust me,” said Nuri. “I know what I’m talking about. And stay near me - it’s risky just coming down here. Especially for a first-timer.”
I trust nobody, Boba thought angrily. At that instant, a figure rushed from the dark alley.
“Get back!” commanded Nuri.
“No!” said Boba. He reached for a broken brick to throw at the figure. It had nearly reached them, its arms outstretched. It was too dark to make it out clearly
But not too dark to see that it was holding a blaster. And the blaster was pointed right at Boba Fett.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Boba swung his arm back, ready to hurl the brick: But before he could, Nuri stopped him
“Stop!” the Bimm said. “Wait - - “
The figure drew up beside them and halted, panting. It was a fur covered Bothan, her pointy ears pressed back against her head in fear “Nuri!” she exclaimed.
Nuri stared up at her in concern. “What is it, Hev’sin?” he asked.
“I have been searching for you!” She turned and looked at Boba. Her blaster was still pointed at him.
Who is he?” she asked Nuri in a low, accusing voice.
Boba stared at his feet. Nuri glanced at him, then shook his head. “Only a boy,” he said to the Bothan quietly, “You will not need your weapon with him. Tell me, Hev’sin - what is wrong?”
The Bothan hesitated. Then she slipped her blaster back into her belt. She stepped next to Nuri, and the two of them turned away slightly. It was obvious they were not worried about Boba overhearing them.
After all, Boba thought, I’m only a boy. Not a serious threat.
Or so you think.
Boba knew about Bothans. They were the greatest spies in the galaxy. They left their homeworld, Bothawai, and traveled
everywhere.
And everywhere they went, they found work - at undercover jobs, as independent operatives, or part of the Bothan Spynet.
And what was it Nuri had just said?
The single most valuable thing is information.
Boba pretended to stare at the alley nearby. But in fact he was listening to what the Bothan was saying.
Boba was spying.
Two can play this game, he thought. And maybe only one can win - but that one will be me.
He could hear Hev’sin talking, in a low, urgent voice. “They say he has come here to raise currency for the Separatists. That is why he is down in the Undercity. He is pretending to make a standard visit to the Banking Clan offices on Level Four, but his real business is down here. He doesn’t want to draw the attention of members of the Republic.”
“Are you sure of this, Hev’sin?” asked Nuri. He looked extremely interested, but not too alarmed.
“Positive,” hissed the Bothan. “I saw him with my own eyes. He is surrounded by clone troopers - he never travels anywhere without a full guard now. Besides, I would know San Hill anywhere.”